Hunt for Wunderwaffe. Immortal

© Sergey Solovyov, 2026

ISBN 978-5-0069-0753-9

Created with Ridero smart publishing system

Hunt for Wunderwaffe

PROLOGUE Operation Wunderland. Hitler’s bet

– Is it far from the airfield to the Werewolf headquarters? – asked the pilot and not someone, but the officer with the buttonholes of the SS navigator.

The cockpit was cramped, especially with the SS officers who entered. This was an undoubted violation of the rules, but who was going to follow them now? And, the aircraft commander did not insist that the officers leave the cockpit.

Geographical coordinates of the Werewolf facility:

49°18’30.3"N 28°29’35.9”E

“No, not very much. Here, Vinnitsa, already under us, and there, and the village of Strizhavka – and the rate from it is eight kilometers away, in a dense forest. Beautiful, I’ll tell you the place! said the pilot almost dreamily. – Beautiful, almost gingerbread, fabulous forest, with excellent houses for officers. There is even a pool and an open-air cinema. Have a great rest!

“You see, Sievers, everything is going as it should,” said the Sturbanfuhrer, “the Fuhrer will certainly approve of our preparations. And, I hope for more funding than before, until our study is completed.

– As much work as time spent, – said the gentleman sadly in the form of the SS gruppenfuhrer, – but no, this direction will certainly not be covered, too promising. The Fuhrer himself spoke favorably about the topic. Worry in vain, Hugo. And the documents are well selected.

– However, both the base and the atmosphere itself are here… Such, excuse me, a resort… We may not have enough time. And other questions…

– Everything will be fine. I have no doubt about the genius of our Fuhrer. He knows how to understand the whole point. This is very important for the Reich

Zivers looked calmly at one of his helpers. He understood that much, if not all, now depends on Hitler’s personal approval.

“All gentlemen! Buckle up, we are starting to decline! – commanded the pilot, – the runway a couple of kilometers from the village!

The plane was really good, as well as the personal pilot of the Fuhrer. But, Sturbanführer Thielemann adjusted his belts, and involuntarily grabbed the armrests of the chair. I noticed how closely Zivers was watching the landing in the window of the plane, the facial features of the head of Anenerbe did not change at all at that moment. The engines buzzed piercingly, the light blow of the landing gear wheels against the concrete of the runway was very noticeable, and Thielemann noticed that their plane immediately went to one of the taxiways, freeing the runway.

– Here, gentlemen, we arrived! Sorry, we don’t have flight attendants, there will be no one to kiss you goodbye! the pilot was joking.

His assistant opened the door, and the soldiers serving the airfield quickly rolled up the ladder. Both officers of the Ahnenerbe slowly descended to the ground. We didn’t have time to really look around. However, they were already expected.

– Heil Hitler! greeted their approaching officer with the colonel’s shoulder straps, – commandant of the headquarters Colonel Kurt Thomas! Let me introduce you to both SS Standartenfuhrer Johann Rattenhuber and Adjutant Fuhrer Hauptmann von Belov.

– Sturbanführer Hugo Thielemann.

– Gruppenführer Wolfram Sievers.

“Please, gentlemen! The car is waiting, now we will reach the bunker very quickly! You’ll be pleasantly surprised.

Thielemann loved cars, and there was something to be surprised at. After all, in front of them stood a rare copy of the art of engineers of the Third Reich, the very famous three-axle Mercedes G4 WH-32292, and Hitler’s driver, Sturbanfuhrer Erich Kempka, was driving. Yes, at least they met them with all the attention.

The car drove slowly, as if so that guests could enjoy the extraordinary landscape. At first glance, the Werfolf rate was more like a cottage village, or sanatorium, somewhere in beautiful Bavaria far from here, as if it had grown up among beautiful forests. The road built by prisoners of war was truly German, straight and flat, and beautiful pines stood untouched by caring builders.

– There is also a swimming pool, an open-air cinema and a casino for gentlemen of officers, – the commandant of Werfolf boasted of his achievements, – how much work it cost! But, as you can see, the result is worth it.

“A wonderfully beautiful place, Mr. Colonel,” said Zivers.

For example, the wooden barracks of the soldiers were perhaps indistinguishable from the burger estates of southern Germany. Made of large logs, with four windows on the sides, the buildings were very pleasing to the eye. And how breathed here, such a pure, beneficial air! It would be fashionable to stay here, heal and rest.

But now, the car rolled up to the bunker, as if hiding between a hundred-year-old, no less, trees. A gray, concrete, unassuming building, with a small door, as if out of nowhere arose in this dense grove.

– Here, come in! – and Yogan Rattenhuber was already ahead, showing such an important structure.

SS soldiers standing at the posts stretched out in a string, seeing their strictly boss. The same one smiled favorably at his subordinates. It was evident how proud the Gruppenfuhrer was of the order that he started and stubbornly supported here.

– The Fuhrer is waiting for you, – said the SS officer on duty, saluting those who came.

The heavy door opened, as if by itself, opening the entrance to the meeting room. Thielemann was almost surprised by the asceticism of this room. On the left, against the wall, a stove with a fireplace rose to the ceiling, bleached, decorated with three painted plates. Nearby stood a large round table, apparently a dining room, and a long conference table. Chairs and chairs were quite simple, without much frills. An ordinary lamp burned on the ceiling. rather than an expensive crystal chandelier. The situation itself did not even speak, but simply shouted about the modesty of the Fuhrer of the German nation.

And so, from the side door, Hitler himself entered. In an indispensable paramilitary uniform, with a swastika bandage on his right sleeve. He held his left hand behind his back, slouched a little. His face looked tired, and his black hair was carefully smoothed, but still capriciously disobeyed the combs, and some curls were crooked, very upset by this of their owner.

– Rattenhuber, and you, Colonel Thomas, come out, please. These people will tell me something important. We’d better talk in private, “the Fuhrer said imperiously.

“That’s right, my Fuhrer! – immediately, without reasoning, answered Rattenhuber, – Thomas, let’s go! he called the colonel.

At the very door, these officers clicked their heels and saluted. Hitler responded by raising his right hand. He laid it down when they came out, and with a sign invited the members of Ananerbe to sit down at a round table. There was already a coffee pot and appliances at the ready.

– So, gentlemen, how are your preparations for the expedition? Hitler asked, smiling a little, did you, Wolfram, report to me that von Wenden had agreed to take part in this raid?

“Yes, my Fuhrer. And this should bring success to the enterprise. Thielemann’s group is being trained in Alta, Norway, and will be transferred to the Kamenny base on Novaya Zemlya in a week.

– Bolsheviks do not make obstacles? Still, our base is not far from their observation points?

– They are short-sighted, and lack the ability to think creatively.

– Yes, these commissars are primitive drudges, and where to their weak mind to German genius. And most of the scientists and intelligent officers left, rather fled from the wild terror, – Hitler said with pleasure, crossing his arms on his chest and proudly straightening his back, – they will not understand anything before we capture the Heart of the Earth and secure victory. Thielemann?

– The hidden island is constantly in a ring of dense fog, according to von Wenden, the sharpest rocks at the bottom cover the fairway, and unloading will be difficult. A difficult, very protected place. But, von Wenden promised to lead us.

“I really, really hope for the Baron. And, I will adequately reward this Superman. I owe you very much, Sievers, that you introduced me to him. That day was one of the best of my life, I truly saw a miracle!

– Only, my Fuhrer, von Wenden, he claims strange… Absolutely incredible things… That the island is guarded by the Dead, and we can only be saved by a few goats sacrificed, right on the shore.

“Goats?”

– exactly. It’s so weird, my Fuhrer!

“I didn’t believe in much either, Thielemann, until I saw Superman himself, his resurrection. He personally attended how Dr. Mengele chopped off Wenden’s head, and then watched it grow to his neck, and he came to life again. I felt his irreplaceable strength – and Hitler began to walk in excitement around the office, throwing furious glances at the guests – all this is, and these are not fairy tales for children… How not fairy tales and the very existence of the Ancients. We will get help from them. You, Thielemann, will take Sleeping from the Island. So we will get trump cards in negotiations with the Immortals. And get Wunderwaffe out of their hands. Let the blind believe that the Wunderwaffe is supertanks, or guns, even missiles. No, the true Fairy weapon is a weapon from the Land of Fairy Tales, Wuderwaffe can only be from Wunderland. Its terrifying power will help us win the war.

“That’s right, my Fuhrer! Zivers said loudly, we will deliver the cargo in a submarine!

– No, Wolfram’s not… Too risky… – Hitler sat down on a chair standing nearby, and began to quickly write on a sheet of paper – here, the order… The battleship Admiral Scheer will go to sea, and he will deliver Sleeping to Norway, and then you will personally bring it to Germany.

– And then what?

– Do you remember, Zivers, about that case in Siberia, in 1908? About the explosion of incredible power, which was written about in the newspapers? How for many tens of kilometers around everything was simply demolished, crushed! – Hitler said this in incredible excitement, his eyes just burned, and his hands began to shake, – the Russians were then able to hide a lot, but it was you who unearthed that it was a bomb blown up by the Immortals… Well, now, these commissars – and he said these words with contempt – all this became unnecessary, they are stupid, deaf and blind. Now, this is a genuine Wunderwaffe, a wonderful, fabulous weapon of incredible power that will give us victory… Hitler repeated, with him, only with him we will win!

– So what? How will we act, my Fuhrer?

Wolfram Sievers already looked at Hitler with fear, he became really obsessed, saying such words, discussing this incredible project. So the main goal is Wunderwaffe… And that explains a lot.

– Still just Zivers… – and Hitler again looked at the chapter “Ananerbe” as a small child – This will become quite doable and logical. We will give the Immortals Sleeping, and in return we will ask them for Wunderwaffe. They will not refuse us, I am sure of that…

PART 1. Telegram – Warning. “There will be a huge explosion on Tunguska”

CHAPTER 1 Telegraph Station

Telegraph operator Alexei Pyatakov was on duty at the Yuza apparatus, often looking at the tower clock, and slowly, even tediously ticking in the corner of the room. Today’s night of June 14 turned out to be restless, so I even had to beat off the telephone message, knocking on these keys by order of General Orlov himself. True, it became more comfortable to work than on the Morse key, Pyatakov was able to appreciate this.

Sadly looked around the walls of such a familiar room, covered, as if in mockery, with cheerful greenish wallpaper. Nevertheless, the bosses did not spare funds for the maintenance of their service, and even the furniture was an expensive walnut tree, with spring seats on chairs and armchairs, and leather upholstery. The sofa was especially good, so all of itself so enticing, with a rounded back, soft sides, which seemed to ask him, even begged:

“Sit down with us, soldier… Sit, rest. Or maybe you can lie down! Where will your telegraph go!”

As if yielding to such thoughts, he settled down in a comfortable chair, even stretched his legs. I already wanted to sleep, and it seemed that the hands on the dial just froze. He checked how the electric lamp worked, flicked the switch, liked how the light was knocked out from under the green lampshade.

“But, there is a service, but here, nevertheless, pulling the strap is much better than somewhere on Kushka,” Alexey said quietly, calming himself down, but now we have strong tea, but sweet… And, we also have a tea sausage to reinforce forces.

Here, in the corner, there was a refrigerator, albeit, at first glance, an unassuming black color. And for sure, there was cold, from ice loaded into the upper hatch. Well, ice, of course, like everyone else’s house, was stored in a deep subfield, covered very carefully with straw. And, the products were stored very well, that even their cook, Efim Sergeevich, descended tula only in a sheepskin sheepskin coat, health birch.

But, the thing was much more thorough, weighed five pounds, no less. Recently, by order of the elder, Pyatakov and Evstafiev moved this thing from one corner to another, they suffered. A little Alexei was not injured in this case, he almost crushed his finger. And, almost earned a slap in the face from the elder, sergeant major Ivan Fedorovich Dolgunov, a thoroughly and zealous person.

But now it was much more convenient to extract very useful things from it, for example, the same tea sausage. Here is her, angry, and Alexey got it now. Like bread from a bread bowl. He put these supplies in front of him on a white plate, carefully cut the sausage with a knife, and came out like in an officer’s buffet. Well, at least not worse. Bread, of course, is not sieve, as there, but also not bad.

“Here, eating is called sandwiches,” the telegraph operator even recalled the name.

It looked very beautiful, it even became a pity to eat. But, as they say, he overpowered himself, and slowly chewed it all, washed down with noble hot tea. Now, imitating Ivan Fedorovich, he ran his right index finger over his mustache and coughed authoritatively. But, unfortunately Pyatakov, the mustache did not grow very much, their density was weak… Still, he turned barely twenty-two years old.

And he ate, and immediately took off his sleep like a hand. I was already happily watching how the sun was shining outside the window.

And then, stuck the receiver. The paper tape twirled quickly on the table, covered with letters, apparently a very urgent and important message. Pyatakov grabbed a piece of cardboard, and began to briskly stick on the tape, quickly cutting it with scissors along the boundaries of words. First, it knocked out where the message came from: “Vagran station.” He did not know about such. Then, the addressee, from which Pyatakova threw into sweat:" His Imperial Majesty Nikolai Alexandrovich in his own hands.” Then, even worse: “Secret.” Alexey was already going to wipe himself with his sleeve, but quickly took out a scarf from the cuff of his uniform, and wiped his wet forehead. Glued and glued further, and soon, the message was ready. He put it in a large gray envelope and sealed it. It remained, the most unpleasant. According to such messages, according to the instructions, it was necessary to immediately report personally to Mr. Shcholkov. And this oh how I did not want Alexey Pyatakov!

Vasily Alekseevich Shcholkov was the permanent head of the Palace Telegraphs Department, and he lodged here, in a house nearby. Who did not know that Mr. Shcholkov had found the era of the optical telegraph, with its famous wooden wings, difficult to communicate. There was a whole system of such signs, and it was not easy to semaphore, Alexei was forced to study this picky sergeant major. Yes, the electromagnetic telegraph Vasily Ivanovich built, like the building of this station, and in addition introduced telephone communications in St. Petersburg and Peterhof. And that Vasily Ivanovich Shcholkov, who gave half a century of his life to the case and witnessed the reign of three emperors, was such a living legend among telegraph operators. And here, wake up… But, military business… And, Pyatakov twisted the handle of Erickson’s telephone, picked up the phone, and said impressively:

– Connect to the house of his nobility Shcholkov… Yes, official need… I expect…

I had to wait, of course. But, as the voice of his beloved boss rang out, Pyaiakov jumped up from his chair and stretched out into a string, as if he could even be seen here.

– Your nobility, received a telegram to the highest name, with the stamp Secret. Telegraph operator Pyatakov reported. So exactly, sealed. There is, to issue a duty general to the messenger against signature!

Pyatakov in two movements took out a thick book from the shelf with the inscription: “Expedition,” quickly filled in the outgoing data – June 14, 1908, 03 hours 20 minutes. I heard the sound of a car approaching, and a messenger came, the wahmister of the Horse Guards Regiment, his acquaintance Grigory Ivanovich Chudakov. Looked awfully important and personable, in his leather jacket and white cap with a red band.

– Good day, Grigory Ivanovich. Here, and the package, everything is ready. – and held out a steel pen for the signature.

– Are you on duty again, Alexey? Well, it’s not bad to serve here, “he said, hiding the envelope in a sum,” it’s time, sorry. Then we’ll talk more.

The motor at the entrance rattled. The car sneezed once, right, for authority, and quickly rolled towards the Grand Palace. Pyatakov adjusted his cap and returned to Yuza’s apparatus. Until the end of the shift it was another three hours and forty minutes.

CHAPTER 2 Palace in Alexandria

– Your Excellency, package. Transmitted by telegraph operator Pyatakov.

“Thank you, Gregory, thank you,” the general replied in a concerned voice.

He examined the seal on the gray envelope with the transfer time, everything was in order. Once again he waved his hand to the wahmistra, letting go of the messenger. And then, from his native regiment, an old proven servant. Even when Orlov himself came to the Konnogvardeisky regiment, Chudakov was already pulling the strap of a difficult extra-long service.

Now General Orlov was an adjutant wing of the sovereign. Honor is considerable, and respect, but much more than that. His service at the Court was on a daily schedule. The watch lasted 24 hours. The adjutants were present at the daily divorce of the palace guard, taking the “password” from the guard and informing him to the emperor. The adjutant wing on duty provided a “connection” between the king and the people, collecting petitions from persons who were present at the palace during the divorce of the guard. This was done so that “the Sovereign Emperor was not stopped by petitioners.”

And General Orlov passed by two agents of the Security Department sitting at the entrance, unknown subordinates of the palace commandant Dmitry Fedorovich Trepov: Two years ago, a special detachment was created from intelligent and nimble people who were ready and able to do a lot. The task of the detachment was to protect the Tsar when traveling outside the palace residences. Its creator and immediate supervisor was Alexander Ivanovich Spiridovich. The schedules for the fighters included gymnastics on cars (simulators), the theory of field observation, a verbal portrait, information about weapons and shooting, the history of the revolutionary movement, reading plans and maps, Russian studies, Russian language and Russian history. And, interestingly, a spiritual conversation was held once a week. Why, General Orlov no longer understood this.

The time was early, but the day, or rather the night, was already going completely wrong…

***

– So, Petrovich, if anything.

– Yes, I remember, your Excellency… ‘the gray-haired batman repeated.

Luka Petrovich Vasiliev was the permanent batman of Count Orlov, and began to serve even when the general began his military career as a cornet in his native Konnogvardeisky regiment. The fact that both of them have come a long way, and the count never regretted that he took an intelligent guy from the Yaroslavl province into the service.

– Yes, you go to bed, sleep a couple of hours. I will look after everyone, your superiority…

The general lay down, covered with a blanket, and fell into an anxious dream. I dreamed of all sorts of things, and in addition, some voices, and a woman’s cry. Sighing, he sat down on the corner of the bed creaking under him, thinking that all this had happened. But no, I heard noise and voices in the next (reception) room, moreover, very clearly.

He jumped up, habitually put on all his uniform, managed to look at himself in the mirror, is it not suitable for an adjutant wing to look bad? He adjusted his cap and entered the reception room.

– Yes, you understand, – the young lady said suffocating, – they will execute Dmyitriya tomorrow, there is no time at all, but he is not guilty.. Honestly noble word!

Orlov frowned. He saw a lot of petitioners, whose friends or relatives were allegedly innocent, had seen enough and heard enough. True, this girl was glorious, but she seemed to speak from the heart, not just did not play with words.

– Here, look… He was consumptive, he was treated, – and she put yellowish paper from the doctor, – and he wanted to leave their cell, but he was threatened. They promised to kill him and me. I only learned this for three days… – she burst into tears and grabbed the general’s hand, – You, you, in your power to help, figure it out…

– So the court was…

– Who is judging them? Court martial, at three days. No lawyers, no jury… And they did not listen. As they took the whole cell with weapons and dynamite, so everyone to the Peter and Paul Fortress… Yes, he will die soon, my consumptive Dmitry..

– Sit here, I’ll talk to the valet.

The general got up from his chair, went out, covered the door behind him. And then, it was already about twelve in the afternoon, the sovereign could already go to bed. But, the young lady was wonderfully lovely, and the guard officer could not refuse her request. Orlov knocked on the valet’s room. The door opened immediately.

– Your Excellency?

– An urgent matter. Is the sovereign still not resting?

– No, deign to read. He asked me to wait half an hour.

– You see, and then the Supplicant appeared. He prays for leniency to the groom. Please report.

The valet shook his head. Looked at his livoyel

– No doubt, wait.

Literally a couple of minutes later Nikolai Alexandrovich himself came out, in his usual officer’s uniform. He was, as always, fit and cheerful.

– So what’s there, Orlov?

– The lady is asking for a pardon for the groom. He is very sick, and did not kill anyone, he is not marred in actions, there is no blood on him. He says tomorrow is the execution…

– Let him come, – Nikolai confidently said, putting a mouthpiece with a smoking cigarette in the ashtray: – I thank you very much for doing this. When a person’s life can be saved, there is no need to hesitate. Thank God neither Yours nor My conscience will be able to reproach us for anything, – added the sovereign.

He stood very straight, put his hands behind his back. A life Cossack came out of the other door. And this was true, however, and in the general’s pocket there was always a Browning ready for shooting. Was Kula to go? Time is…

But now, the valet entered, held the young lady, and left the reception. The sovereign listened carefully to everything, read the Petition.

“Everything will be fine,” the sovereign said calmly.

He quickly sat down at the table, began to confidently fill out telegram forms addressed to the Minister of Justice and the commandant of the Peter and Paul Fortress.

“Look,” the young lady showed the papers.

“Delay the execution of Dmitry Ivanovich Frolov. Wait for orders. Nikolay.”